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Axeell halted the point of the blade just an inch from the slowly rising chest of the unconscious Major.

“Drop it.” The voice cracked with fear and nerves. Axeell smiled.
Axeell quickly spun around and launched his bayonet across the corridor striking the young soldier directly in his face. Jerking backwards the enemy squeezed his trigger sending a spray of bullets along the corridor and up into the ceiling.

On his feet in seconds Axeell careered into the panicked soldier just as the hail of bullets came to an end.

Both men fell to the ground, the Canadian was trapped beneath Axeell and was unable to move as punch after punch was landed on his face. It was over after a minute and Axeell shakily stood up and looked around. No-one was in sight and moving quickly he grabbed his enemies rifle, grabbed some fresh ammunition and returned to the Major.

The private was left with a crushed skull, a broken nose, no teeth and a crushed windpipe. He was brain-dead for the rest of his life.

“Nighty night,” muttered Axeell as he squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet ripping through the Major’s head. Pieces of bone and brain exploded outwards like a sick and twisted firework.

“Time to leave.” Running now, not bothering to blend in with his tunic smothered in blood and brain matter.

Axeell burst through the bunker’s door and back into the trenches which was a roiling mass of panic and confusion. The alarm had sounded but none of the enemy knew what for. Some men were vainly trying to see across no-mans land in case of a British charge that was never going to come.

Taking a sharp left Axeell sprinted along the trenches back to where he first entered. He passed Canadians who turned and out shouted for information.

“Sarge do you know what’s going…” their questions were lost in the surrounding sounds of chaos.

“Hold it Sergeant.” A Captain stood in his path, two other soldiers with him, all of them baring the way to freedom. “Sergeant I demand you to stop.”
Axeell lifted the rifle, the muzzle still hot and covered in steadily congealing blood. The Captain and his companions sensed what was happening but before a single utterance could leave his lips a bullet had blown through his throat. The other two soldiers fell with bullets in their chests and glazed eyes staring out unseeing at the world around them.

Shouts sounded from behind him as Canadians up and down the trench turned to see their quarry sprint away.

A few more seconds and Axeell burst from the small warren of trenches and found himself in the dugout where he first entered the enemies territory. He leapt onto the small table where his first kills had been busy playing cards. Grasping the lip of the trench in both hands he swung himself to the edge.

The pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It felt warm and wet. Axeell lost the feeling in his hands and smashed into the table, cracking it under his weight and spilling himself to the water clogged mud. Through his half-closed eyes Axeell saw five Canadians approach, all with the rifles raised and death in their eyes.

Five shots rang out and Axeell closed his eyes.